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Blind





Turning and spinning so fast, the wheels on my bike looked blurred and distorted spinning out of control but the rubber gripped the road so firmly I felt safe for a while, I might dismantle this bloody bike when I get home, put him on his head, unscrew his bolts that hold him firmly together, piece by piece I will dissect his anatomy until beside me on the drive he will lye in segments of metal bars, long screws, short screws, bolts, buckles rubber and rust. I decided to take a walk instead, possibly not instead but for now a walk it is. I find it quite odd at this time of night, the thick cold air with its mist drawing patterns in the nothingness, distorted clouds swim almost unnoticed high above, I find it odd why people choose to lock their doors, swoosh shut their curtains resigning to their beloved sofa trapping their minds with modern times and it’s twisted agenda, does this mean they now have twisted agendas to?







The day





Small stones crept up between my toes as I pushed one foot in front of the other, walking with haste and trepidation I noticed the landmark, the landmark I put on the map of directions to my past. The air was warm but it held a steady breeze which on occasion disturbed my memories. I slipped off my shoes, tied the laces together and hung them round my neck. The water tickled my toes, I liked it, so I sat down in the exact spot I had that day, allowing the water to work its way up my calf. In the distance I can see hair floating, the not quite “normal” looking pinkish mass bobbing for attention, I ran, swam scooped the mass up on my back and with one arm swam back to the spot I had been sat in not 5 minutes ago, warming my flesh under the hot summer sun. I tried I said to myself, I tried….But the flesh didn’t warm, the signs did not come, the hair dried under the suns intense heat and I remember thinking……. So this is what its like! I no longer fear for my day which is the oddest thing, as I still fear for theirs.





Berwick Street





I do not remember her name, why I am not sure, I mean it is not as though she was unmemorable damn its frustrating, I am sure it was Zara. She walked with confidence and a look of awe on her face, I thought to myself at the time, what a strange girl but I liked her none the less, she had gumption. The corner of Berwick street was so busy that I really did not want to sit outside so we went inside instead, the girl behind the bar was tall with long blond hair, big **** that I fantasised about while watching her serve the weary tourists. As I walked up to the bar she saw me coming, I smiled, she smiled back, we locked eye contact until I reached the stable door whereupon she lowered her gaze and giggled girlishly, I returned the nervous gesture. My mind worked slowly as my words ran fast from my mouth, “I think I fancy you and I also think you fancy me, do you want a drink later…with me?” “yes I would like that, here, take my number and call me after ten”. I took the number and walked back to the corner table, Zara was smiling but I was not, I don’t show satisfaction, it is such a Karma alerting trait. I walked outside, Zara followed, we sat quite happily on a bench situated on the corner of Berwick street. I smelt his French cologne before I saw him, I watched him cross the road enter the chip shop and take a small box from his left jacket pocket which he lifted over the counter and handed to the girl….drugs I thought. I didn’t phone the girl from behind the bar, I often think of her for the simple reason, she was the first girl I had asked out on a date, always thought to myself, what an attractive girl, shame she is Australian



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it is good